Bound
by Chamelaucium
Summary: On his way back to the Blue Mountains from a meeting in Rivendell, Thorin is ambushed on the forest path. His would-be attacker is not at all what he expected, however - instead a poor and hungry hobbit looking to steal his food. Fortunately for Thorin, this hobbit makes a god damn awful thief.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm back for another story! This is an idea I've had for ages but what with working on my story for the Hobbit Big Bang I didn't have time to get it down; now that that is coming along very nicely indeed I decided to write this. And it feels so good to be back! (For now, anyway.)**

**(Basically this was me wanting to make Bilbo and Thorin into Jaime and Brienne from GoT. Those two, ugh.. 3 )**

**I hope you enjoy. :)**

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**Perhaps the lover is the outlaw in ourselves we don't quite have the nerve to claim. **

_ - Rosemary Sullivan _

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**Bound**

Thorin was not the superstitious kind, but he was certainly _ sus_picious; when his neck began to prickle he knew he was being followed. He was certain of it. Forests were no friends to the dwarves, dark canopies and thick trees offering all manner of hiding places to conceal traps to trick unwary travellers, but Thorin had travelled alone enough to know when to trust his instincts. And right now, his instinct was screaming at him to grab his sword and fight; but without knowing how many of his potential assailants there were, he kept his pace, not looking around but listening to every snap of twig and rustle of leaves.

He kept a hand on his sword hilt for good measure, ready to swing it should the hidden figures attack; he didn't relax his grip even when the sounds seemed to die down. Thorin would not take any chances now he was alone, his guard scattered and his own way...lost.

When what little sunlight filtered through the trees began to dim and the shadows faded to grey on the mud track he kept an eye out for places to stop for the night – on the path, an easy target, or further in the forest, where there was no easy escape route? Either way he would be in trouble if he was attacked.

He found a spot a little deeper among the trees but close enough to the path, but it was the little brook that cut across the clearing that decided him. In the centre of the clearing he'd see anyone coming and no one could cross the stream without splashing. Satisfied, he set a little fire going as the dark deepened and the bright orange crackle of the flame reassured him. Not that he needed the light - he'd grown up underground, after all, in the dark corridors of Erebor - but it kept other predators at bay.

After a light meal he lay down to sleep, his sword still buckled to his waist and knives in his boots, as well as one clutched under the pack he used as a pillow. He lay awake, listening to the crackle of the fire and the quiet night noises of owls and little creatures of the trees and gradually was lulled into a semi-sleeping state.

He was started awake by a twig snapping – not the pop of fire-consumed wood. Keeping his entire body still he tightened his grip on his knife under his head, still alert even after a few minutes. Then he heard something else, the soft scrape of something against a tree - clothing, most like. He kept breathing steadily, however, trying not to make any hasty movements too soon.

It was only when he heard the grass by his ear being flattened that he sprang up, grabbing at the person's clothing and bringing a knife to their neck, cold metal against warm flesh - only to see _ nothing _ . But there was definitely _ something _ in his hands and he heard their soft gasps as he pressed the knife closer to the throat.

'Whatever magic you conceal yourself with, remove it now,' he growled quietly, making sure the captive in his grip knew he wouldn't hesitate to slit the blade right across their throat. '_ Now _,' he repeated, pressing the blade closer, and he felt the person fumbling and then he saw who - what – it was.

The first thing he noticed was the head of fair curls, dirty and with twigs caught in amongst them. He took in the tattered clothes, once finely cut with buttons of brass still attached by a single thread, and...The feet.

His assailant was a _ hobbit . _

A halfling. He'd seen these creatures before, having passed through the Shire on numerous occasions as he left the Blue Mountains - the refuge of the dwarves of Erebor after the sacking of their city by the dragon - and all they seemed to do all day was farm, eat and drink. So why was there a hobbit here with Thorin's knife pressed to his neck?

'Who are you and what are you doing?' Thorin asked, loosening his grip on the small creature but keeping his blade close to the soft flesh of the neck.

'If you let me go, I could introduce myself as a proper hobbit should,' the halfling said hopefully but Thorin only pressed the knife closer.

'A proper hobbit doesn't sneak up on sleeping travellers in the forest,' Thorin said cuttingly. 'Now, who are you and why are you here?'

The halfling sighed. 'That's true enough. I'm Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, and I was trying to steal your gold. And your food.' He twisted a little in Thorin's grip. 'Could you let me go now?'

Thorin made no reply. 'How did you conceal yourself?'

The hobbit hesitated but at the slight increase in pressure of the knife he let out an exasperated huff. 'Alright! I found this in the mountain passes when I was there last.' He held something out, something gold that winked orange in the light of the fire. 'Can you please take the knife away now? You'll cut me if you're not careful.'

'That is rather the point,' Thorin replied but he complied, removing the blade from this hobbit - Bilbo's - neck and taking the golden trinket he held out. He kept a firm grip on his arm though, to stop him running off. It was a ring, gold and heavy in his palm. Once, he might have been tempted by it; but with the memory of the dragon and grief for his father and grandfather still painful he felt nothing towards it other than curiosity.

'I do apologise for waking you - although it would have been better for me if you hadn't - but I'll just be going on my way now,' Bilbo was saying, trying to loosen Thorin's grip on his upper arm. 'You can keep the ring, if you like-'

'I don't want your ring,' Thorin growled. 'And you're not going anywhere. You think I'd let you go so you can thieve from other travellers?'

'I - wha-'

Thorin reached into his pack and pulled out a length of thick hemp rope and Bilbo's eyes widened; it would almost have been comical if he hadn't looked so terrified. He let out a little squeak as Thorin brought the rope towards him and started to struggle, but Thorin just caught his wrists together to stop him writhing.

'Stay _ still _. I'm only binding your hands together.'

The halfling relaxed infinitesimally and Thorin was able to quickly tie the rope around his wrists tightly. But Bilbo began to struggle again and gasped as the rope bit into his wrists. 'How am I supposed to get by if I can't move my hands?' he asked angrily.

'I told you to stay _ still _,' Thorin told him sharply. 'The rope's not meant for tying up prisoners and you'll hurt yourself. And you're not meant to get by.'

'What do you mean?' Bilbo asked in a mixture of fear and anger.

'Last time I passed through the Shire, the Bagginses were a very wealthy family. Way I see it they'll pay good money to have one of their own returned to them.'

Gold was scarce even for the rightful king of Erebor, and while he felt a little twinge of guilt at using the halfling in such a mercenary way, the thought of putting hot food on his sister's table and warm boots on his nephews' feet was enough to quash it quickly enough.

'You're wrong,' Bilbo said quietly, but didn't elaborate. 'How do you know I won't run off during the night?'

Thorin gave a humourless smile. 'Because I'm tying you to a tree.'

Bilbo seemed to sigh and deflate and allowed himself to be led over to a large thick oak tree, around which Thorin tied the remaining length of rope. Bilbo didn't protest or struggle, which Thorin was grateful for; perhaps if Bilbo proved himself willing to cooperate Thorin wouldn't have to keep him tied up.

He put some more wood on the fire and sat by it, watching Bilbo.

'Do you want some food?' he asked and Bilbo shook his head. 'You're a halfling, of course you want food. You were trying to steal it in the first place.'

Bilbo got a haughty look on his face as he regarded Thorin. 'I don't accept food from kidnappers.'

Thorin had to laugh at that. 'But you'll happily steal from them?'

Bilbo looked away. 'A hobbit has to have some standards. And anyway, I can't eat with my hands tied.'

'I'll let your hands free if you wish to eat,' Thorin told him. Bilbo glared. So Thorin reached into his pack and started going through his food supplies, keeping up a running commentary as he did so. 'I'm on my way back from a meeting with the elves of Rivendell, and they were gracious enough to grant me some of their least mouldy scraps. Look, I've got cold peppered potatoes, or honey glazed ham; lemon chicken, or you can have the salad. I hate salad.' When he glanced up, Bilbo was looking at the food with interest but as soon as he noticed Thorin looking at him the halfling returned to glaring into the shadows of the forest.

Sighing, Thorin took him some of the potatoes and set them in his lap before adjusting the rope, keeping Bilbo secured to the tree but freeing his hands.

'I'd rather not have a dead Baggins to return.'

The halfling said nothing, so Thorin sighed again and returned to his spot by the fire. 'Well, I'm not letting you go just because you won't eat. Get some sleep; we've got a long way to travel tomorrow. I'll be happier once we get out of this damned forest.'

Again answered with silence, Thorin took one last look at the halfling before rolling himself back up in his cloak and letting himself relax, still keeping his blades within easy reach. He wouldn't be sleeping tonight, just in case Bilbo decided to make a run for it... But Bilbo stayed stubbornly still and silent and Thorin found himself drifting off to sleep, and the next thing he knew the sun was blinking down through the trees and fingers of smoke curled up from what was left of the fire. Bilbo was staring at him as he cursed soundly and Thorin felt uncomfortable at the unblinking gaze of those large eyes.

He glowered as he rooted around in his pack for some of the hard bread and ham he'd been given; he noticed that Bilbo still hadn't eaten the potatoes. He was hunger-striking, then.

'You should have woken me at first light,' he said sharply and he heard Bilbo snort in disbelief.

'I'm your _ prisoner _, not your alarm,' he responded bitingly, and Thorin ignored him as he went about eating and clearing away the remnants of his camp.

'How did you cross the river so silently last night?' Thorin asked him as he untied the rope from the tree after re-tying Bilbo's wrists.

'You think I'll give up my tricks of the trade that easily?' was all Bilbo said on the matter, and Thorin only shrugged. It made no real matter to him, although he'd need to keep a close eye on the hobbit, in case he should try to cut his bonds and sneak away while he was distracted.

They set off not long after, Thorin tying the rope loosely to himself so that the halfling could not yank it from his grasp and make his escape. Bilbo resisted at first, dragging his feet so that Thorin had to pull him along, but eventually he followed. They walked in silence, Thorin just wanting to get out of this Mahal-forsaken forest, the trees looming over them ominously tall.

'Well, this is nice,' Bilbo said after a while. 'I always did like to go walking in the woods at home.' Thorin glared at him suspiciously, but Bilbo just looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. 'Although admittedly, I was never tied up when I went walking before.'

'Be quiet,' Thorin said gruffly. 'If you're just going to complain, don't talk.'

'I'm not complaining,' Bilbo pointed out. 'I'm stating a fact. In fact, it's rather novel, being tied up like this. Maybe you're not taking me home, maybe you're going to sell me to traders, or take me back to your mountain, or-'

'I said be _quiet_,' Thorin interrupted. 'I'm taking you to your family and that's that.'

Bilbo sighed and fell quiet, and said nothing until the sun was directly above them and it was time for lunch. Thorin had heard the growling of his stomach grow gradually louder, but the halfling was too proud to admit to it. When they did eventually stop, Thorin loosened the ties on his wrists enough that the hobbit could eat, although Bilbo eyed the bread and cheese he was offered suspiciously.

'In all the books, you should never eat your captor's food,' he said, glaring at it.

'What benefit would there be in me killing you?' Thorin sighed. 'Look.' He took a bite from the bread, to prove it wasn't poisoned, and held it back out to Bilbo.

'You could have just built up a resistance to it, specifically to trick me into eating it,' he said petulantly, but he accepted the food and ate it hungrily, eyes closing at the taste of the food. Thorin wondered when the hobbit had last eaten, and he gave him some of the potatoes he'd refused last night; this time Bilbo accepted them readily and his face was bliss as he ate.

He sighed when Thorin tightened the bonds on his hands again when it was time to move on, but didn't resist. Once again, they walked in silence for the most part, Bilbo walking in front of Thorin so the dwarf could keep an eye on him, other than when Bilbo started to whistle a tune once or twice.

'If you visited Rivendell,' Bilbo asked suddenly, his voice loud in the cloying silence of the forest, 'why are you by yourself? Everyone knows the dwarves hate the elves.'

'The feeling's mutual, I assure you,' Thorin muttered. 'It's none of your concern.'

'Oh, now _ really _,' Bilbo sighed. 'I was just trying to make conversation.'

'Then don't,' Thorin suggested, perhaps a little harsher than he meant to.

'I've realised I don't even know your name,' Bilbo complained, ignoring his comment. 'You know mine, but who are you?'

Thorin said nothing for a few moments, staring straight ahead, but when the hobbit gave a sigh he said shortly, 'Thorin.'

'Thorin,' Bilbo repeated. '_ Thorin ...' _

'Stop it,' Thorin muttered crossly, tugging on the rope. Bilbo looked back at him, vaguely annoyed.

'I've never met a dwarf before,' he said defensively . 'Your name is strange.'

'So's yours,' Thorin retorted.

'I'll have you know that my name is a very respectable one,' Bilbo said waspishly, as if Thorin had insulted his very honour.

'And mine is the name of a king,' Thorin snapped, annoyed, and grit his teeth when he realised what he'd just said. Although the look on the hobbit's face was almost worth it

'You're a king?' Bilbo asked, eyes wide. Thorin gave a curt nod. 'You don't look very much like a king,' he said uncertainly, and Thorin grit his teeth again. He ignored that comment and tugged the rope again, making sure Bilbo kept walking. There was quiet again for a moment until Bilbo started up a stream of commentary.

'That said, we don't have kings in the Shire. We have mayors instead, so I wouldn't know what a king looks like. Do they all wander through forests alone and capture helpless travellers? I wonder why you need money from my family if you're a king. Where are you king of, exactly?'

'Do you _ ever _ shut up?' Thorin exclaimed when Bilbo paused for breath.

Bilbo stiffened and glared at Thorin. 'That was rude.' He snapped his head forward, dirty curls bouncing with the movement, and didn't utter another word. Thorin felt a twinge of guilt as Bilbo walked, shoulders stiff and staring resolutely ahead of him, but he pushed it away. This halfling had been going to steal from him, leave him without food or the means to get more, so he owed nothing to him.

The silence was too loud, but Bilbo was sulking and Thorin was too proud to admit that his chatter was better than the forest's noisy quiet. So they trudged along, neither speaking, as the shadows began to lengthen and the sun no longer shone down through the leaves, the blue of dusk replacing it.

They found a small clearing to stay in for the night and Thorin tied Bilbo to the tree while he got a fire going. But just as he had set up the kindling and logs and was about to set his flint to it, Bilbo spoke.

'I need to go.'

'You're not going anywhere,' Thorin said, sighing over the woodpile. 'I've told you.'

'No, I mean I need to _go_. In the bush.' Thorin looked up at him.

'Can you not wait until I'm done?'

Bilbo shook his head and Thorin could see his legs jiggling slightly, feet tapping on the grass. 'Please?' Bilbo asked, tapping growing faster. 'I do really need to go.'

Thorin heaved a sigh of frustration, the fire still unlit, and walked over to Bilbo. Slipping the rope around his wrists, he untied him from the tree and led him over to where there was a thick covering of brush and bushes. 'Go then.'

'Turn around,' Bilbo commanded, forgetting his need to relieve himself in favour of being respectable. Thorin complied, stepping around behind a tree but keeping a tight hold of the rope in case he tried anything. He stood there awkwardly as the hobbit went about his business, wondering how he'd got to this point – a king of Erebor standing guard as a captive hobbit answered a call of nature…his sister would laugh herself hoarse if she could see him. Bilbo soon reappeared, nodded haughtily, and made his own way back to his tree, Thorin following and re-tying him.

Thorin heated some of the chicken he'd been given by the elves and gave some to Bilbo, who looked at it for a moment before deciding his hunger overcame his mistrust of Thorin.

'When was the last time you ate?' Thorin asked him, watching as Bilbo's hunger warred with his manners as he tried not to wolf it down. 'Before lunch today, I mean?'

Bilbo shrugged. 'I had some berries for breakfast yesterday, but you captured me before I could have dinner,' he threw an accusing look at Thorin. 'I managed to find some mushrooms two days before that, though, and that was a good dinner,' he said, smiling.

'Don't hobbits eat a ridiculous number of meals a day?' Thorin asked, surprised at how little Bilbo seemed to have eaten.

Bilbo scowled and looked offended. 'It's not _ ridiculous _ ,' he said crossly. 'It makes perfect sense. We eat so much when we can so that when we _ can't _we've got plenty stored up. Hobbits used to be a wandering people, you know.'

Thorin was surprised. Now he thought about it, Bilbo wasn't as skinny as one might expect a wandering petty thief to be, although he was certainly leaner than the hobbits Thorin had seen in the Shire. 'How long have you been wandering?' he asked. 'Stealing from sleeping travellers?'

Bilbo's face hardened. 'Long enough.' He twisted in the ropes, but tied as he was to the tree he couldn't turn away from Thorin, so he settled for shifting around the trunk as much as he could and closing his eyes. 'Goodnight, Thorin.'

'Goodnight,' Thorin answered, studying the little creature until he opened one green eye and glared at him, and he hurriedly turned back to the fire and set up his own bed roll close to the flames. He'd hit a sore point there, but what? There was evidently more to this hobbit than Thorin had previously thought.

As he wrapped his cloak up tighter around himself, he thought that perhaps he'd set the fire up closer to Bilbo the next night.

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**A/N: More will be up soon, hopefully! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it :D**


	2. Chapter 2

This time he was awake before Bilbo, the sun still new in the sky judging by the faint grey light that filtered down through the trees. He had stoked the fire and was heating some food when Bilbo gave a groan. Thorin glanced over to see him stretching his legs, trying as best he could to get rid of the knots in his arms and back with a look of discomfort on his face.

'It's not very comfortable sleeping upright, you know,' Bilbo said lightly as Thorin approached. 'Even less so when you're tied to a tree.'

'Here,' was all Thorin said and knelt down beside Bilbo to bind his wrists and untie him from the tree. He helped Bilbo up and let him sit by the fire. Bilbo was overjoyed at that and sat basking in the warmth of the flames as he ate, and even gave Thorin a small smile.

After they broke their fast they set off, this time covering a lot more distance before they sat down to lunch than yesterday. Thorin still made Bilbo walk ahead of him and mostly ignored Bilbo's attempts at conversation, but the silence wasn't as awkward as before, mainly because the trees had started to thin and Thorin could nearly see the sky through the canopy.

'It's only another day until we're out of the forest,' Bilbo told him. 'Even less if you follow the shortcut.'

'What shortcut?' Thorin asked suspiciously.

'I've been travelling these woods a long time now. There's another way I know that cuts through the forest quicker than this path.'

Admittedly the path they were following was full of twists and turns and sometimes disappeared completely, but he was wary of leaving it; especially at the suggestion of his captive.

'I'd rather stay on the path,' Thorin told him. 'I won't take any chances you might escape.

'Have I tried to escape so far?' Bilbo asked him pointedly, offering a small smile.

He hadn't, but Thorin still didn't trust him. 'Keep walking. We're sticking to the path.'

'We could be out of the forest by tonight if we go my way,' Bilbo insisted. 'It'll be evening tomorrow if we continue on the path.'

Thorin hesitated. He did so want to get out of the forest, and Bilbo hadn't tried any tricks before... Gruffly, he nodded. 'We'll go your way.'

Bilbo said nothing, but he gestured to a large tree a few yards in front of them. 'I can find it once we get to that oak.

When they reached said tree, Bilbo ventured a little further into the trees, darkness beginning to swallow him up and Thorin was grateful he'd remembered to keep the rope attached.

Suddenly Bilbo's cry of success sounded and he reappeared, flushed and looking pleased with himself.

'I found it! It's well hidden, you see, only really used by animals and...' He cleared his throat. 'Anyway. It's here.'

He turned back and this time Thorin followed, not liking the closeness of the trees or the darkness, but willing to put up with it if they could get out of this dratted forest sooner. Bilbo led with sure steps now he'd found the new path, more of an animal trail than a path, and Thorin wondered if they were indeed making more progress than if they'd kept to the other path.

They kept walking, occasionally the rope or clothes and sometimes hair getting caught in the branches; once or twice a frightened fox even ran across the path in front of them, startled by their footsteps. The path got darker as the sun began to set, until they were left in pitch darkness once it had gone completely. But Bilbo didn't falter and Thorin kept walking, one boot in front of the other.

Eventually Bilbo stopped, nearly causing Thorin to bump into him.

'We're nearly there,' Bilbo said quietly. 'Quarter of an hour at most, I should think.'

Thorin nodded gruffly and followed, his relief palpable at being so close to free of this forest. When the trees became a lot more spread out he huffed an audible sigh of relief and Bilbo turned to smile at him, looking smug. 'I told you my way was quicker.'

Thorin said nothing to that. 'Where does the other path come out? How far from here?'

'A quarter of a mile south,' Bilbo replied. 'This way has easier access to the Shire, though, if you're still insisting on heading there.'

'Of course I'm still taking you home,' Thorin said absent-mindedly, looking around for some cover under which to make camp. But that was a mistake.

One minute his sword was in its scabbard at his side, the next it was in Bilbo's hands, severing the rope that connected them and waving about wildly. Thorin's reactions were fast and no sooner had it gone than he had his knives out, and it was evident that Bilbo had rarely even held a sword, let alone been trained in how to use one. Bilbo was glaring at him, wrists still bound together and breathing heavily as he held the sword, pointing it at Thorin and backing away with tiny steps.

Internally Thorin was cursing; if he let Bilbo get away he'd lose his sword and any chance of a nice fat ransom to pay for food and clothes for his people.

'I'm not going back to the Shire,' Bilbo said fiercely. 'I won't go back just because of some dwarf king who thinks he can own me.' Thorin took a couple of steps towards him and Bilbo slashed wildly. 'I will use this!' he said, but his voice wavered.

'Put it down,' Thorin said coldly. 'You'll cut yourself.'

Bilbo glared at him, those green eyes full of fury. 'I know how to use a sword.'

'Then let's fight,' Thorin said mildly, and sheathing his knives he swept aside his coat to reveal another sword, lighter and shorter than his own but useful nonetheless; Bilbo's eyes went wide and he froze. While he stood rooted in shock Thorin slashed quick as lightning and Bilbo dropped the sword in fear and surprise; before he could make a run for it Thorin knocked Bilbo to the ground.

Kneeling, he retied the rope tightly around Bilbo's wrists, even as Bilbo glared at him accusingly. 'Don't try that again,' Thorin growled, 'or I'll tie you up completely and you'll be carried back to the Shire.'

Bilbo said nothing, only continued to glare at him. Thorin ignored him and sheathed both swords, before dragging Bilbo over to the overhang of rock he'd seen. It was nice and dry with plenty of kindling to light a fire, and Thorin secured Bilbo to a rock. Bilbo remained stubbornly silent throughout, kicking Thorin away when he made to put a poultice on the bruised area where he'd knocked him down.

'I hate you,' was all he said before he closed his eyes and went to sleep, ignoring Thorin completely.

Thorin was mostly only annoyed because he'd been hoping that Bilbo would behave and Thorin could relax his bonds at night, allowing him to sleep lying down rather than upright against something hard and uncomfortable.

When the next morning Bilbo was still refusing to talk, Thorin gave an exasperated huff. 'Are you now going to ignore me all the way back to the Shire?'

Bilbo didn't even look at him.

'At least it means you're not talking,' Thorin muttered and couldn't hide his grin when Bilbo forgot that he was ignoring him when he retorted, 'I heard that!' The disgruntled look on his face was priceless.

Before they started on their way again, Thorin went to the little stream that ran merrily nearby. He filled his multiple water skins, which were all running very low, and stopped to rinse himself of the mud and leaves of the forest. With the hobbit still tied up he knew he wasn't in danger when he stripped off his coat and shirt to wash, dirt almost plastered to his skin, but he stopped when he felt eyes on him.

He peered suspiciously in the direction of the forest but could see nothing; the only other person in the vicinity was Bilbo, who Thorin assumed was still glaring at him, judging by how stiffly he sat. Shrugging, he proceeded to finish washing, damping his hair to get the twigs out, and dressed again.

Making his way back to the hobbit he saw Bilbo staring resolutely in the opposite direction. He ignored Thorin when the dwarf asked him if he wished to bathe, which Thorin took as a no and finished getting ready to go.

After the sword escapade the night before, Bilbo seemed determined to make Thorin's life a misery. He kicked his feet and walked deliberately slowly, sometimes darting round a tree purely with the intent of tangling himself and the rope around it, and once he just sat himself down in the middle of the open field they were crossing.

'I'm _tired_,' he snapped when Thorin told him to get up. 'I need to rest.'

'Get up, hobbit,' Thorin said angrily, pulling on the rope. But Bilbo refused, planting his feet in front of him so he couldn't be pulled along.

'My name is Bilbo, if you would please use it,' he said haughtily, 'and I don't want to get up. I want to rest.'

'You've rested now, now get up and move on!' Thorin said angrily. Bilbo glared at him, not even flinching when Thorin returned it. That was vaguely impressive, some small part of Thorin's brain noted, but he ignored the thought.

'I couldn't sleep at all last night because of that rock, so if it's all the same to you I think I'll just go to sleep here.' Bilbo lay down in the grass, his green eyes never leaving Thorin's. Thorin sighed.

'I told you I'd do this,' he said in resignation.

He approached Bilbo and knelt down beside him.

'What are you doing?' Bilbo asked, a faint note of panic in his voice. 'What are you- _put me down!' _ he gasped as Thorin neatly scooped him up and threw him over his shoulder. 'You put me down right now, you stupid dwarf, _right now_!'

Thorin ignored him. Bilbo began pounding him with his fists, insisting that Thorin put him down that very instant, but underneath all the padded layers and armour Thorin wore, the punches were about as effective as throwing cotton wool at a mountain.

Thorin just smirked and carried on walking, Bilbo's weight hardly causing him much difficulty – he was really rather light. When Bilbo started trying to kick him, his large feet catching him in the ribs, all Thorin said was, very calmly, 'if you don't stop struggling I'll have to carry you like a baby.'

Bilbo stopped writhing and said, very meekly, 'You can put me down now. I promise I'll walk; I'm quite rested now.'

Thorin just gave a hum of pacifying agreement and did nothing of the sort. Bilbo huffed and Thorin walked in silence for a while.

'How long are you going to carry me for?' Bilbo asked after a while..

'Until we stop for tonight, and all of tomorrow if you try anything funny, and again all of the day after that.'

'Right. That's that then.' Bilbo sounded resigned.

After a little while longer in silence, Bilbo again broke it. 'So, King of some dwarven race or other, why are you in such a rush to get me home?'

'Forgotten you were supposed to be ignoring me?' Thorin asked lightly. Bilbo only hit him, and Thorin laughed. 'I've been away from my family for too long,' he said eventually.

'Your wife?'

'My sister,' Thorin corrected. 'And her two boys.'

'Hm,' was all the reply Thorin got.

'What about you?'

'What _about_ me?' Bilbo asked suspiciously.

'Your family. What do they say about your wandering so far from home?' Thorin felt Bilbo stiffen.

'I'd rather not talk about it.'

'As you like,' Thorin shrugged.

Silence reigned again and Bilbo began to splutter. 'Your hair's going in my face,' he complained. 'Why do you have such long hair anyway?'

'A sign of my rank,' Thorin explained. 'As are my braids. They let other dwarves know I'm royal, a king.'

'Wouldn't they know that already?'

'Maybe, yes,' Thorin conceded, more amused than irritated at Bilbo's questioning. 'It's like...like a badge of honour, I suppose, but more than that too. Without my braids I'd still be a king, but in name only; the disgrace of being braidless would make commanding any authority at all nigh on impossible.'

'That seems very harsh to me,' Bilbo sighed.

'If they got cut off in battle, it would show I was a poor warrior. If they wouldn't grow, I wouldn't be a proper dwarf. If they were taken from me, it would be a sign of my weakness.'

'Well that's just codswallop,' Bilbo said hotly. 'You could lose your braids in all manner of ways...what if there was an accident and they were burned off? That happened to my aunt, she dropped a hot pan on her feet once and the hair was all burned off and never grew back again.'

Thorin chuckled. 'I'm glad to know you care so much about my honour as a dwarf,' he said, laughing. Bilbo sniffed.

'I don't. I just think it's stupid.' Thorin shrugged. 'I need to go again,' Bilbo said suddenly.

'Really?'

'Yes,' Bilbo said defensively. 'I'm smaller than you, I can't hold it as long.'

Thorin shrugged Bilbo off his shoulder and Bilbo winced as blood rushed from his head, his face pink from being near upside down for so long. Bilbo headed to the tree and glared at Thorin to make him turn around, but Thorin refused. Not after the funny business with the sword yesterday; he wouldn't risk letting Bilbo escape.

Bilbo looked visibly distressed, however, at this utter breach of respectability.

'You can't watch me!' he hissed.

'I'm not watching you because I want to!' Thorin retorted. 'I'm watching so you don't run away.'

'I won't run, I promise,' he said desperately, but Thorin was unmoved. Bilbo did his best and hid behind the tree, and his face was absolutely crimson when he was done. He even didn't resist when Thorin slung him back over his shoulder.

'You can't just watch people when they relieve themselves,' he said crossly. 'It's not proper.'

'Does my looking at you make you so uncomfortable?' Thorin asked, lightly teasing, and was expecting the punch from Bilbo that time.

'You're insufferable,' Bilbo muttered.

'You're very easy to tease,' Thorin returned.

It began to get dark and Thorin looked for somewhere to stop for the night, settling for the top of one of the rolling hills which commanded a good view of the surrounding area. They were easily in view, but they would see anyone coming from a long way off. Either way, Thorin didn't risk lighting a fire that night, so they ate their dinner cold.

'In all the books, adventures seem so exciting,' Bilbo sighed. 'Not filled with rope burn, cold food and grumpy companions.' He glared at Thorin at the last bit.

'Oh?' Thorin asked mildly. 'What is the company like according to your books, then?'

'Strong.'

'I've just carried you half the day.'

'Clever.'

'I'm ransoming you to get gold for my family, and I stopped you getting away.'

'Kind.'

'I've shared my food with you, I didn't tie your bonds too tightly and if you'd behaved, I was going to let you sleep on the ground rather than against a tree.'

Bilbo scowled and muttered something, his cheeks reddening in the dusk.

'What was that?' Thorin asked.

'Handsome,' Bilbo said shortly, looking anywhere other than at Thorin.

'Am I not?' Thorin chuckled and Bilbo threw him a dirty look. 'My sister always said I was.'

'She's your sister. That's why.'

Thorin mock winced. 'Harsh.'

Bilbo ignored that and refused to speak any more, so Thorin sorted out his bedroll to go to sleep. There was no tree or rock or anything to tie Bilbo to, and the hobbit looked at Thorin uncertainly.

'What are you going to do with me?' he asked.

Thorin didn't reply, only secured the rope to his own wrist, keeping Bilbo's wrists and ankles tied. Because of where Bilbo had slashed the rope before, it was now considerably shorter and when Bilbo lay down, it was perhaps closer to Thorin than he would have liked.

Thorin had no sympathy and just raised his eyebrow at Bilbo's desperate look. 'You brought this upon yourself,' he said mildly. 'Might be, without a fire you'll be grateful for the warmth.'

Bilbo scowled and made sure to lie down as far away as the rope would allow. Thorin lay down, rolled over and ignored him. Bilbo shuffled for what seemed like an age, every movement of his jerking the rope and keeping Thorin awake as well.

'Bilbo,' Thorin said sleepily, 'just go to sleep. Please.'

Bilbo had stiffened when Thorin said his name, but now he relaxed and seemed to settle down, which Thorin was grateful for. But then the shuffling started again and Thorin rolled over and sat up sharply.

'What is it?' he demanded. 'Why do you keep moving?'

Bilbo looked disgruntled. 'It's cold up here, ' he said shortly. 'And there's no fire.'

Thorin took one look at Bilbo's threadbare clothes, not much holding them together, and knew he had been shivering. He quickly removed his furs; Bilbo looked horrified as he handed the coat to him, after removing all the hidden blades, but Thorin refused to let him refuse. He had other layers and he was more tired than cold, and so it was that Bilbo finally settled with Thorin's furs wrapped around him.

Thorin could hear Bilbo's breathing slow gradually to that of sleep and when he turned and looked at his face, the hobbit looked peaceful. Thorin wondered how old he was; asleep, he looked young, but when Thorin had mentioned his family he'd looked drawn and tired. Quickly Thorin rolled back over, looking out over the grass rather than at the hobbit, until he too fell asleep.

Thorin awoke early, thanks to the lack of tree cover that blocked out the sun and he could see the pink dawn over in the east. Bilbo was sitting up already, and biting his lip when Thorin noticed him.

'Are you alright?' Thorin asked in concern.

Bilbo nodded, scowling out at the horizon and barely sparing Thorin a glance. Thorin moved over to his pack to get some breakfast. They ate bread and hard cheese and set off, Thorin refilling the water skins in the small brook at the bottom of the hill.

When he made as if to pick Bilbo up again the hobbit skittered out of the way. 'I'll be good, I promise,' he said. Thorin shrugged. Either way Bilbo wouldn't get far, should he try to escape.

But Bilbo did as he promised and didn't cause any trouble, which Thorin was grateful for.

Their path led them down among the foothills, which Thorin wasn't too pleased about as he no longer had a good view of their surroundings.

As the sun was approaching its zenith and Bilbo was beginning to complain that he was hungry, they found the road that Bilbo confirmed led to the Shire. Thorin was wary of following it, knowing that it made them more of a target, but it would make the going a lot easier so he agreed to follow it, at least until they were out of these dratted hills.

They had been walking the road for no longer than half an hour when Thorin saw something that made him place a hand on his sword hilt. Bilbo saw the movement and stopped.

'What is it?' he asked. 'It wasn't me, whatever it is.'

Thorin nodded up ahead. Bilbo followed his gaze and said, 'Ah.'

Thorin could see figures up ahead who looked to be Men. They approached cautiously but Thorin wanted to kick himself when two others appeared behind them, saying nothing but with loaded crossbows aimed directly at them. They had no choice but to keep walking, shepherded to the larger group like sheep.

Thorin grit his teeth. 'You planned this,' he whispered angrily to Bilbo. 'You knew about this all along.'

'I did not!' Bilbo hissed back furiously. 'In case you hadn't noticed, there's a crossbow aimed at my back too!'

Thorin ignored that. 'You told me this was the right path so that we'd end up here, I'd be killed and you could escape.'

'_I'm still tied to you!' _Bilbo said fiercely. 'You staying alive would be rather beneficial to me, thank you.'

'For now, until you find a way to slip your bonds and run.'

'Slip my- Yavanna's sake, I didn't plan this! Eru, are all dwarves this stubborn? Or is it just you?'

'Quiet,' one of the Men snapped and jabbed the point of his arrow lightly to Bilbo's shoulder, making the hobbit squeak with outrage and surprise.

Eventually they reached the barricade of Men, some with crossbows and longbows, all with swords. Their faces were masked.

Bilbo stepped closer to Thorin. 'Thorin, give me a sword,' he whispered.

'So you can cut yourself and run off? I don't think so,' Thorin muttered back.

'No, because they look like they're going to kill us!' Bilbo hissed back, glaring at Thorin.

The men were speaking among themselves, the two behind them standing stock still and ready to fire. Thorin knew he had to do something; his armour had been forged in the fires of Erebor and was impenetrable by even Elvish blades, so he would be safe from their arrows. But Bilbo... His heart was in his throat.

'Bilbo, get in front of me,' he said softly.

'Why?' Bilbo asked suspiciously.

_'Why_? Will you just do it, please?' he hissed, irritation briefly overtaking the fear. Bilbo complied, moving slowly in front of Thorin; as soon as he was shielded by Thorin's larger body, Thorin whirled and sliced at the bowmen after cutting the rope that bound them, hoping for the best.

They were unprepared for his sudden attack and while the first succumbed easily enough, the other had more warning and was able to pull out his sword and block Thorin's attacks.

'The others!' Bilbo cried, and Thorin assumed the others had noticed and were retaliating. Sure enough, an arrow slammed into his back but bounced off his armour harmlessly. But it could easily have hit Bilbo, unarmed and unprotected Bilbo, and with a sudden roar Thorin slammed his sword hilt into the Man's side, making him double over, and Thorin knocked him to the ground.

He whirled again to face the new onslaught and pull Bilbo behind him again, but there was not a sign of the hobbit. He'd gone and left, just as Thorin had feared.

But then he felt something at his side, his second sword was leaving its sheath and he felt Bilbo's breath on his cheek as he said, 'I told you you should have armed me.'

Annoyance and relief mingled together. 'You don't know how to use a sword!' he said angrily. 'You should get out of the way.'

'I know enough to know which end to use,' he said defensively, his disembodied voice sounding out eerily. Thorin ignored that and focused on parrying the Men's slashes and aiming a few of his own, and judging from the noises of surprise from some of the others Bilbo was doing a good impression of an invisible wasp, jabbing and stinging without being seen. But suddenly he cried out.

Thorin froze and his sword was knocked out of his hand by one of the others. One of the Men seemed to be tussling with empty air but then Bilbo appeared, eyes wide as the Man held a knife to his throat, much as Thorin had done.

The man holding him was huge and he sneered at Thorin. 'Drop all your weapons, or I'll cut his throat.' As he spoke he dug the knife in deeper and Bilbo closed his eyes, a drop of wet red blood trailing down his neck.

Thorin wanted to refuse, to pull out his own knives and fight them, but Bilbo glanced at him with those wide scared eyes and Thorin knew he wouldn't. Slowly, with careful and deliberate movements, he dropped all his knives, pulling them from his coat and letting them fall to the floor. It was a risk, but he left the blade in his boot: if they noticed they'd kill Bilbo; if not, it might be their only chance of freedom.

When he was done, the man pushed Bilbo away and Thorin caught him before he could fall to the ground. Bilbo looked at him in surprise but neither could say anything because the Man gave the order for them to be tied, and the next thing Thorin knew he was being manhandled by two of the Men and his wrists were being tied together, the rope biting into his wrists. He tried to struggle but they just kicked him until he stopped, panting as he glared at each of them furiously.

He and Bilbo were led to a tree and secured to it, rope wrapped around them and the trunk so they could not move. Thorin was seething, but he knew he'd done the right thing. He'd taken Bilbo's freedom; he owed it to him not to get him killed.

When the Men were certain they couldn't escape they left them, heading over to a fire and food. They'd taken Thorin's pack and were ransacking it for food, woops of excitement at the food from the elves sounding loud.

'I told you we should have stopped for lunch,' Bilbo said morosely. 'I don't think they're going to feed us.'

'That's all you can think of now?' Thorin asked hotly. 'While we're here tied to a tree with no means of escape, you think of _food?'_

'I'm a hobbit, in case you hadn't noticed,' Bilbo grumbled. 'It's second nature. And anyway, I might be able to get us out.'

Thorin had been about to make a cutting remark of some sort, but then Bilbo's words sank in. 'You can get us out?'

'Only maybe,' Bilbo warned. 'There's a possibility. Do you have a knife on you?'

'In my boot,' Thorin said. 'But I can't reach it.'

'Don't worry,' Bilbo grinned. 'We'll have to wait for darkness, though. So you're stuck with me for a while longer.'

'Lucky me,' Thorin said, but with no real malice. The way they'd been tied meant they were side by side, which Bilbo pointed out wasn't a clever move on their captor's part for precisely this reason - they could talk and hatch escape plans, which was definitely an advantage of the Men's lack of thinking.

'You never told me why you were in Rivendell,' Bilbo said as the afternoon wore on and they grew hungrier.

'You never told me why you're out wandering in the wild, not safe and well-fed in your hobbit-hole,' Thorin responded.

'True.' Bilbo gave a small smile. 'Do you want to know?'

'If you're willing to tell me.'

Bilbo looked away for a moment, biting on a chapped lip; the sun shone brightly still and turned his hair golden, lighting his green eyes. He was really rather pretty, Thorin thought, and brave... He too turned away when he realised what he'd just thought.

Bilbo was looking at him then and Thorin forced himself to meet his gaze.

'You asked me before what my family thought about my wandering,' he said hesitantly.

'What _do_ they think?'

Bilbo laughed humourlessly. 'Not much, so far as I know; my parents have been dead these past five years.'

Thorin looked at his lap and said nothing. Surely Bilbo hadn't been thieving and stealing for five years?

'It wasn't a problem, at first; I inherited money and a home and I was comfortable, but not happy. Then nearly a year ago Gandalf turned up on my doorstep - he's a wizard-'

'Tharkûn?' Thorin asked, surprised. 'I know of him, although I had no idea he was fond of hobbits.'

'Yes, well. He arrived and offered to take me to Rivendell to see the elves, and it was wonderful. We went separate ways on the way home, but by the time I got home my smial had been taken over by these awful cousins of mine and my father's family wanted nothing to do with me after my _adventure._ My mother's family...' he hesitated. 'They didn't like that she married a Baggins, he was of a lower social standing, and... Well. I knew where I wasn't wanted so I upped and left.' Bilbo gave a small smile. 'Now you know why I don't want to go back.'

Thorin frowned. 'Why didn't you tell me of this?'

'Would it have changed your mind?'

'Yes!' Thorin protested. 'I don't...' he trailed off. 'If you can get us out of here, Master Baggins, then I swear on my honour as a dwarf I will not force you with me and you will be free to go.'

Bilbo grinned, the melancholy gone from him as quickly as it came. _'Master Baggins_, now, eh?' he chuckled. 'The only time we hobbits stand on ceremony is during a courtship, you know.' Thorin spluttered and Bilbo laughed. 'I'm joking. Although it _is _expected that you stick to formalities during a courtship, just so you know.'

'Why would I need to know that?' Thorin asked. 'I'm a dwarf.'

'Aye, but you might catch the eye of a pretty hobbit lass on your way back to your mountains.'

'I doubt that very much,' Thorin muttered, staring anywhere except at the hobbit beside him, whose smile was really rather charming, even when it was at his expense.

Bilbo just laughed, the sound carrying loud in the afternoon air until one of the Men yelled at them to shut up, even as they feasted on Thorin's honeyed ham and roasted game and sweetened dried fruits from the elves.

'If we're unlucky, they'll have eaten all our food by the time we get out of here,' Bilbo sighed.

'I'd count that as lucky,' Thorin said, glancing at the hobbit. 'What would be unlucky would be if we got killed before we got out.'

Bilbo laughed quietly so as not to draw the attention of their captors again. His eyes were full of amusement and his lips were quirked up into a really rather endearing smile.

'My dear Thorin,' he said lightly, 'don't you trust me?'

* * *

**A/N: And there's chapter 2! I really hope you enjoyed! Thank you all so much to everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited and/or followed! I'm so chuffed you're enjoying it so much. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

As dusk approached one of the men threw two dried crusts of bread into their laps and it took some manoeuvring on their part to pick it up and bring it to their mouths to eat.

Bilbo grimaced as he chewed his. 'This tastes like it's been sitting in a _shoe_ for weeks.' He took another bite. 'A very sweaty shoe.'

Thorin had to smile. 'Are all hobbits this fussy?'

'All respectable ones, yes. Most wouldn't touch this with a barge pole.' He heaved a sigh. 'But seeing as I'm no longer respectable, I suppose that doesn't apply to me anymore.' And so saying, he promptly took another mouthful, grimacing again at the taste.

It was fully dark by the time they were done, tiny white stars peeping out of the indigo sky.

Bilbo started wriggling in his ties and Thorin looked at him. 'What are you doing?'

'Getting free,' Bilbo replied. 'This rope's too large to be tied around wrists, and the knot's not tight enough. It'll come undone easily... There,' he said, satisfaction clear in his voice. He wriggled his wrists and Thorin could see that they were indeed free.

'Why didn't you do that earlier?' he asked, impressed.

'They'd have seen us,' Bilbo said. 'But now it's dark, that fire of theirs is going to blind them to almost everything outside the light. You've got the knife?'

'Here...' Thorin shifted so his leg was close to Bilbo, who with his newly freed hands was able to reach and get it. 'Are you going to cut the ropes?'

'Eventually,' he said, but made no elaboration.

'What are you doing?' Thorin asked in irritation. 'We could go now.'

'What, unarmed? Don't be daft.'

Thorin fell silent, more disgruntled than anything at being called _daft._

Two of the men had taken Thorin's swords, one each; when one of them stood up - the one with Thorin's main sword now attached to his hip - and headed in their direction to make water, Bilbo called him over.

The man glanced at his companions before heading over to them.

'What do you want?' he grunted and Thorin glared. Bilbo, however, leant forward and spoke to him, whispering as if in confidentiality.

'This dwarf kidnapped me,' he said. 'He was going to take me to my parents to get a ransom from them. I promise you, if you let me go and get home safely, I'll make sure they reward you handsomely.'

'Oh?' the man asked, dropping his voice so the others didn't hear. Thorin curled his lip; the greed of Men made them all too fallible. 'What sort of price are we talking abou' 'ere?'

Bilbo beckoned him closer and the Man leant forward, turning his head the better to hear Bilbo. But that was his mistake.

'Your life,' Bilbo said simply and quickly brought the blade up to the man's throat, slicing it fast and sharp and pushing him away as blood poured out. Thorin could only gape.

'You...' was all he managed to get out, as Bilbo sliced through the ropes holding him to the tree and wriggling his wrists out fully from the thick rope. This little hobbit had cut open the man's throat; Thorin wouldn't have believed it if he hadn't just seen it.

'Yes, I killed him,' Bilbo whispered as he kicked the man over and removed the sword and scabbard before hurrying to cut Thorin's bonds too, freeing him from the tree. Thorin had thought for a second that maybe Bilbo would have left him; cut his own bonds and left him there to rot with their captors, but instead he helped Thorin to his feet and pressed the scabbard into his hands.

'What?' he asked quietly when he saw Thorin looking at him.

'You could have left,' Thorin replied. 'You had my knife, my sword; you could have run and been far away from me and them.'

A look of genuine confusion passed over his face. 'Why would I do that? You've been good to me, Thorin, even though you didn't have to be. I wouldn't leave you with _them.' _He nodded in the direction of the men and Thorin felt a surge of affection for this creature with matted blonde curls suddenly rise up in him; quickly Thorin looked away, at the ground, anywhere other than at Bilbo's green gaze on him.

He snapped his head up when Bilbo started moving, except he was moving _towards_ the group of men surrounding the fire and away from Thorin and the dead man.

'_Bilbo_!' he hissed, heart suddenly in his throat. 'What are you _doing_?'

Bilbo said nothing, only glanced back, pressed a finger to his lips and hurried forward on silent feet, so quiet that Thorin couldn't hear him at all; could he not see the hobbit, he'd never have known he was there.

He wanted to follow but the grass rustled loudly under his clunky boots so he dared not go any closer; he could only watch helplessly as Bilbo got closer to the group of Men by the fire. Then he saw what Bilbo was trying to do - he was reaching for Thorin's pack. Thorin held his breath - the pack was closeby one of the archers and if he noticed him...

But Bilbo managed to grab it and disappeared into the shadows. Thorin followed, diving into the undergrowth and running away as fast as he could. He heard Bilbo doing the same but then a cry rang out from the Men and there was the twang of a longbow string; a moment later Thorin heard a small yelp and Bilbo came crashing through the bushes, falling down to the grass with an arrow shaft sticking out of his leg.

Immediately Thorin scooped him up and held him close as he put more distance between them and the Men, heart pumping wildly as Bilbo gasped in pain each time the injured leg was jostled. Thorin wasn't sure how long he stumbled on for, but by the time he stopped they were well away from any roads and there was a patch of tree cover he decided to make for, the welcome sounds of a spring sounding in the night air.

When under the trees Thorin lay Bilbo down ever so gently, the hobbit pale and sweating as he grit his teeth.

'That was stupid,' was all Thorin could say. 'You nearly got yourself killed.'

Bilbo glared at him, although the effect was lost what with his grey face. 'I got your pack back though, didn't I? With all your knives in and what food they left- ah!' he grimaced as Thorin lifted the leg to inspect it.

'The arrowhead's penetrated deep,' he said.

'It's nothing,' Bilbo said angrily. 'Have you got some linen or cloth?'

'This is not _nothing,' _Thorin said hotly as he ripped up part of his undershirt.

'When you've been on the receiving end of a few disgruntled archers' warning fire, you know when it's serious or not,' Bilbo said. 'The arrow's not even that well-made.' And with that he pulled the arrow out, wincing and gritting his teeth as blood poured out of the wound. Thorin quickly wrapped the cloth around it, tying it tightly to stop further blood loss.

'You're an idiot,' was all he said, and Bilbo gave a grin which was rather more of a grimace.

'Thanks,' he said breathlessly.

'It wasn't a compliment.'

'I know.'

Thorin gave a snort. 'You should rest. I'll keep watch for now in case anyone comes.'

Bilbo didn't try and resist, and was soon asleep. Thorin began to worry when his temperature was still high and he started sweating, and he cursed. Bilbo was getting a fever. He hurried to the spring to get water and gently bathed Bilbo with it, keeping him cool, and gingerly unwrapped the bandage to clean out the wound. Satisfied when the black crusty blood was gone, Thorin put a new bandage on and returned to keeping watch.

Nothing stirred all night and by the time the sun started to rise, turning the sky pink and orange, Bilbo's fever had gone and he slept soundly. Thorin himself was exhausted, but he couldn't sleep just yet. It was mid-morning by the time Bilbo awoke, and Thorin was going through his pack, salvaging any food and sorting the blades he'd dropped.

He heard Bilbo's grimace as he woke and turned to face him. He was pleased at how pink his cheeks were; no longer feverishly flushed nor sickly grey.

'Don't move your leg,' he said as Bilbo tried to sit up.

'Thanks for that,' the hobbit replied testily. 'I'd never have known.'

Thorin set his knives down. 'We have to move on. I don't feel safe in these hills.'

'That's a great idea,' Bilbo said, 'except I can't walk.'

Thorin smiled. 'I can carry you.'

Bilbo looked about to protest but his leg twinged again and he winced. 'Fine.'

Thorin gave him some bread, the only thing the Men hadn't taken, and by noon they were far away from the hills. They were technically still headed towards the Shire, although Thorin now had no intention of collecting any sort of ransom for the hobbit at all. Bilbo had got him out of that tight spot and now he was injured.

'When I can walk again,' Bilbo piped up, 'what are you going to do?'

'I'm going to go home,' Thorin replied. 'But first we need to get you to a healer's. Surely there's a village you know of where they'll help you?'

'Please don't take me back to the Shire,' Bilbo said quietly. 'I'm quite happy as I am.'

'You won't be happy if you're dead,' Thorin said firmly. 'I'll get you safe and healed, and after that you can do whatever you so wish.'

Bilbo frowned. 'Really, it's nothing. I've had worse before-'

'Then it shouldn't take long to heal.' Thorin looked down at Bilbo. The hobbit was already grumpy because Thorin had had to resort to carrying like a baby, and this was just taking the biscuit. Bilbo glared at him, but Thorin ignored it and gave a serene smile.

That evening they saw the first lights of a village and arrived there as dusk gave way to night. It was quiet, the light noise of laughter and song coming from the tavern situated in the centre of the village, to which Thorin headed.

The hobbits in the common room fell silent when they saw him, but immediately the landlady hurried over and helped Thorin and Bilbo to a room, sending out one of the lads to fetch the healer. He came quickly and cleaned the wound, gave Bilbo some herbs to swallow and told him to rest; Thorin had no money, it having been taken from him by the Mahal-forsaken Men, but he had a few jewels and twists of gold in the lining of his coat which he presented to the healer and the landlady as payment.

After a bowl of hot broth Thorin was just about ready to fall asleep, Bilbo even more so; but he sat by Bilbo's side until the hobbit fell asleep.

'Will I wake to find you gone, hurried off back to your mountain now you've done your duty and brought me here?' Bilbo asked him accusingly, eyes heavy lidded with sleep.

Thorin smiled softly. 'Only when you're better.'

Bilbo snorted. 'Well don't just sit there,' he said sleepily, and laughed at Thorin's confusion. 'I know you didn't sleep at all last night, and this bed's more than big enough for the both of us. Besides, I'm cold.'

Uncertainly Thorin left the wooden chair and sat gingerly down on the bed beside Bilbo, sinking into the pillows, heavenly soft after weeks on the road. He was nearly asleep as soon as he drew the cover over himself, although he was awake enough to feel Bilbo curl up at his side.

'That's better,' the hobbit murmured to himself. Thorin looked at him, burrowed under the covers as he was. He had a little frown puckering his forehead. Without really thinking Thorin drew Bilbo closer, encasing him in his warmth, and then he was dead to the world in the deep sleep of the thoroughly exhausted.

When he woke up Bilbo was sitting up and eating from a tray, eggs and bacon and toast and jam piled high on two plates.

'Ah, finally, the dwarf king awakes,' Bilbo said, smirking slightly. 'My kiss did the trick, then.'

'What?' Thorin coughed, spluttering. Surely he'd have noticed if Bilbo had kissed him-

'Eru, you're so gullible. I was joking. Surely you've read all those stories and fairy tales? No?' Bilbo's face fell as Thorin shook his head. 'Okay. That's just made it a bit awkward. Breakfast?'

Ignoring the tightness of his chest that had appeared at the thought of Bilbo kissing him - because that was just ridiculous - Thorin accepted the plate of food and tucked in, eating hungrily. Mahal, he'd forgotten how good it was to eat fresh, hot food...

'Are you leaving today?' Bilbo asked as he ate, not looking at Thorin.

'If you're better.'

Bilbo looked up at him. 'Why do you care so much? I'm just a hobbit, you're a king.'

'It's my fault you're injured,' Thorin said seriously. 'And you saved my life by getting us out. I owe it to you to get you safe.'

'Yes, well, I'm safe now,' Bilbo said shortly. 'You don't need to stay just for me.' He pushed his food away and stood. 'I'm going to wash.'

Thorin watched him go, appetite disappearing but he made himself finish the food. If Bilbo was indeed better then there was nothing to keep him here; he could be home within the week and back with his sister and nephews.

The thought of Fíli and Kíli and Dís decided him and he set his food aside, instead sorting through his pack and tidying what he had left neatly. He had three out of five knives left, and his main sword, thanks to Bilbo; the rope was gone but he had his blankets and spare clothing, the Men obviously seeing no point in taking it; two water skins which both needed refilling.

He was replacing the items when Bilbo came back in, in new, if second-hand clothes, a towel around his neck and his blonde curls straight and dark with water. He saw Thorin sorting his pack and turned to the window, looking out.

'Are you off, then?'

Thorin had to give himself a mental shake; his mind had begun to wonder what Bilbo's damp curls felt like, what his clean skin smelt like.

'I - um. You appear to be on fine form now, and my family needs me, so yes,' he said, staring at the covers on the bed and not allowing himself to think of how warm Bilbo had been in his arms the night before.

'Right then.' Bilbo tugged at a curl. 'What am I supposed to do?'

Thorin shrugged. 'Stay here, find a new life here and be safe and comfortable and well-fed. A hobbit shouldn't be wondering alone as you were.'

Something crossed over Bilbo's face and he looked at Thorin intently for a moment but then he sighed. 'Well then.' He gave a small smile. 'Good-bye, your Majesty,' he smirked, 'or is it Highness?'

'I - it's not - it's just Thorin,' Thorin protested. He didn't like his titles when Bilbo said them; they felt fake and unnecessary.

Bilbo smiled sadly. 'No, it's not. You're a king with a people to return to and rule, and I'm just a cast-out hobbit with nowhere to go. Perhaps I'll head to Rivendell again; Lord Elrond was kind to me...'

_Elves. _Thorin grit his teeth. He hated elves. 'I'm sorry I captured you,' Thorin said instead of venting his annoyance at elves. 'I should have just let you go.'

'Oh, no,' Bilbo waved his words away. 'I've had quite the fun time of it, all things considered. Perhaps one day I'll write a book of my short time as a prisoner.'

Thorin gave a small smile and shut his pack, everything placed inside neatly, and hoisted it onto his back. He moved over to the door and stood in front of Bilbo.

'Well then,' was all he said.

'Well then indeed,' Bilbo agreed. He looked as if he wanted to say something but didn't; Thorin turned as if to go but turned back when Bilbo called 'Wait!'

Thorin raised an eyebrow. Bilbo's cheeks were pink. 'I think I should tell you, before you go, that you are indeed actually very handsome,' Bilbo said solemnly. Thorin grinned and then froze in shock when Bilbo stood on his toes and pressed his lips to Thorin's in a quick kiss.

When Bilbo drew back he laughed at the expression on Thorin's face. 'Hm. Sorry. I've never kissed anyone with a beard before, though, and I don't know when I'll get another chance.' Thorin could only clear his throat and he knew his cheeks were bright red. 'It wasn't that bad, actually.'

'Right. Um. Good-bye, then,' he said hurriedly and turned and walked out, leaving Bilbo behind in the doorway. On his way out he thanked the landlady, who pressed food into his hands, and was soon leaving the village, heading west to the Blue Mountains and his sister and nephews.

It was late morning, nearly noon, and the sun was shining brightly. The countryside was quiet, the sounds of sheep bleating on hillsides and birds chirruping in the trees the only sounds that could be heard once he left the village behind; only one set of feet walking, one person breathing. Thorin was loath to admit it, but he'd got used to having Bilbo with him. Even if he was irritating and annoying and never shut up, he was good company. He didn't think about the feel of Bilbo's lips on his; how he wished he'd responded in kind...

Irritably he shook his head. Those thoughts would get him nowhere; Bilbo was a hobbit. He was a dwarf.

'Thorin!'

Thorin stiffened as someone called his name. When they called again he turned, only to see Bilbo himself hurrying behind him, limping a little on his hurt leg. Thorin stopped and let him catch up, panting heavily but with a grin on his face.

'What are you doing here?' Thorin asked in confusion. 'Did I forget something?'

Bilbo blinked a little, as if the answer were obvious. 'Yes. _Me_.'

'What?'

'I'm coming with you,' Bilbo said cheerfully.

'What - no!' Thorin protested. 'You can't come with me.'

'Why not?' Bilbo demanded.

'Because! You don't belong with me.'

'Well, I don't really belong here either,' Bilbo said angrily. 'So I might as well tag along with you.'

'You're a hobbit,' Thorin pointed out.

'So?'

'_So,' _Thorin said pointedly. 'You can't live under a mountain.'

'I can if I want to!' Bilbo protested fiercely.

'No, you can't!' Thorin could only imagine what Dís would say if he arrived home with a hobbit tailing along after him. She'd think he'd kidnapped him - which wouldn't be far wrong, he had to admit - or she'd laugh herself silly at the thought that someone actually liked him enough to follow after him.

'You're so rude,' Bilbo sighed, aghast. 'If this were the Shire you'd greet me politely and say, "of course you may accompany me Master Baggins, I'd be delighted for your company and I'd like to kiss you again"-'

Thorin spluttered at that and saw Bilbo's impish grin. 'If you miss your Shire manners so much why don't you go back there,' was all he said.

Bilbo gave an aggravated sigh. 'Yavanna, you're really not getting this, are you? I want to stay with you.'

Thorin stopped and turned to face the hobbit. 'Look, I know I captured you but I've told you, you're free to _go _now; you don't have to stay with me anymore. '

'Valar, Thorin, you...' He looked at him with those big eyes and it felt strangely to Thorin like he could see right through him, to his core. He looked at the ground; he didn't want Bilbo to see that he _admired_ him - this little creature who was so clever, who had killed to save them both and who made Thorin want to hold him safely for the rest of his days. He was...

'Are you _really _that daft?'

...Incredibly rude, Thorin thought and scowled. But Bilbo just laughed.

'Well, you'll see soon enough. Are we going?'

_'I _am going; you are staying here or going back,' Thorin corrected.

'You said I'm free to go,' Bilbo said. 'That means I'm free to tag along with you if I so choose, which I do.' He gave Thorin a charming smile which made Thorin study his boots for a moment before turning and beginning to walk. Bilbo hurried along behind him, his leg hampering him from keeping up fully.

'You know it's rude to walk so fast and not offer an injured companion a hand?' Bilbo's voice piped up. Thorin glanced back but didn't answer or slow down. Bilbo sighed and there was a pause for a moment before he started talking again.

'I've always heard that dwarves are born from rock. Is that true?'

'I've heard tales that hobbits grew from the ground.'

Bilbo's laugh was bright and it made Thorin smile, until he realised he was smiling and quickly stopped. Bilbo kept up a stream of nonsensical chatter for the rest of the day, Thorin alternating between fond amusement and fond irritation.

By the time Thorin stopped for the night Bilbo's leg was paining him a bit but he remained staunchly there, eyes following Thorin. The dwarf sighed.

'Bilbo, why are you still here?'

The hobbit shrugged. 'You've got a fire and food. I don't. And you're very pretty in the firelight, did I tell you?'

Thorin had to bite his lip to stop himself laughing. 'You're incorrigible.'

'You're ridiculously blind, Thorin.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, Thorin, that... Eru, I have to show you.' He stood and walked over to Thorin, who placed a protective hand on his shoulder as he sat down again to stop him toppling, ignoring the warmth of him through his clothes.

Bilbo looked at him, his green eyes flickering softly with the firelight. 'I mean that I belong here with you because...' He trailed off, looked at Thorin thoughtfully, and then pressed his lips to Thorin's.

Thorin sat dazed for a moment, but when it looked as if Bilbo was going to draw away he responded, capturing Bilbo's lips with his own and holding him close as Thorin grew steadily more light-headed, from shock and delight and lack of air. He pulled away, gasping for air, and Bilbo flashed him a grin, his lips soft and kissed.

'_That's _why I want to stay with you,' he said quietly, an unusual air of solemnity about him as he looked into Thorin's eyes searchingly. 'So can I?'

Thorin pressed their foreheads together, still not quite sure that this was happening but absolutely certain that he _wanted _it to be.

'I'm a king without a Kingdom,' Thorin said quietly. 'My people are poor, guests of the people we live amongst...'

'I'm a hobbit without a smial and well-stocked larders,' Bilbo reminded him quietly. 'If you don't mind that, I don't mind either.'

Thorin smiled and Bilbo returned it. 'Well then,' he said, 'I hope you're up to dealing with the monsters that are my nephews.'

Bilbo chuckled. 'I have Took cousins. Your nephews have surely got nothing compared to them.'

Thorin could only smile at this little hobbit, his brave, stubborn, irritating, lovely little hobbit who had obstinately followed him all this way. And later, when they lay down to sleep in the light of the little fire, Bilbo snuggled up close against his furs, Thorin was the happiest dwarf alive.

**Finis**

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**A/N: That's the end! I hope you enjoyed. Thank you all so much for your reviews, favourites and follows! I really appreciate it.**


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